Yesterday, I came home to Dayton. It's fourth of July weekend and our family decided to have a pignic for one last time. When my family gets together for big shindigs like this, there tends to be a lot of chaos involved. For example, when I got home I was feeling emotional and was going between fits of crying at the same time my dad was getting the tables and chairs set up next to the fire pit, and my sister was directing everyone where to go. My mom sat on the couch, exhausted from all the thinking and running around involved in one of these family events. Only one person, my sister Shelli, seemed to be in a good mood. But my other sister got her crying and then there was no one in a good mood.
Things picked up later on in the evening. I sat around the campfire with three of my brothers and sisters. We played dice and then tried to tell ghost stories. My attempt at the scary Johny story was quite pathetic. Shelli's rendition of the doll with the purple fingernails was worser still.
At around three thirty this morning, I fell asleep. I'm sort of an old woman when it comes to getting the proper amount of sleep. So I slept. It was nice. The pig still wasn't under the ground and at least three members of my family stayed awake until all the prep work was done at eleven. Right now, I'm learning that the big meal isn't completely done. And my family is really good about keeping cool heads. I suppose I ought to take life a bit more seriously and get frustrated more often, but that would produce stress. I think I'll just chill out. It's more fun that way.
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